Run-Ins
by Captainohmycaptain
Summary: Peter and Stiles keep running into each other. More like Peter keeps stalking Stiles, and eventually Stiles realizes they're kinda dating.


**So I don't own Teen Wolf. Duh. Prompt from Tumblr. Please Review, love ya guys. **

There first run in was at the grocery store. Stiles was explaining to his dad how unhealthy potato chips were when Peter happened by an put in his two cents.

"Well, they might be bad for you, but you have to admit they're delicious," He smirked at Stiles, who was sputtering and trying to stop himself from having a fear-induced heart attack. "Mr. Stilinski, nice to meet you, I'm Peter Hale." He extended a hand, but John just stared him down.

"Peter Hale. As in the werewolf that murdered a bunch of people a couple years ago and almost killed my son?" He asked, raising his eyebrows. Peter huffed out an awkward laugh and shrugged.

"I was never going to kill Stiles. I like him too much. I _would_ turn him without a second thought if I was still Alpha, though." And, wow, Stiles seriously regretted telling his dad about werewolves because if he'd still been in the dark, Peter never would've dared approach them while shopping and nonchalantly give off super-creeper vibes. Stiles' dad looked a little pissed now, so Stiles let out an overly loud laugh to diffuse the tension. It didn't really help.

"Can you try not being super creepy for, like, two seconds, please? And why aren't you on a leash? I thought Derek was having you monitored, or something?" He glared so heavily at the werewolf that it almost hurt his eyes. Peter smirked back. "Oh, I'm sure tonight's guard pup be rounding the corner any second now." Peter smiled wolfishly. His dad looked between them and sighed, "Alright, break it up. The last thing we need is you two causing a scene in the supermarket." He grumbled, tossing a bag of chips into the cart and ignoring Stiles' sounds of protest.

That was when Isaac rounded the corner and caught sigh of Peer. He growled quietly and stalked towards the group, looking more than slightly like a model in his dark jacket and big scarf.

"Hey, Stiles," He greeted, "Mr. Stilinski." John gave Isaac a nod, Stiles gave him a smile. "Peter. Let's go. We got what we needed." Stiles looked down at the basket in Peter's hands, noticing it for the first time. Hair gel, TV dinners, and about ten packages of hot pockets. He laughed for real then. Peter sighed.

* * *

The next is as Stiles is leaving school. He's said goodbye to Scott, made his way to his car, weaving through fellow classmates. He hopped in and cranked the key but all that came from his Baby was a sad stuttering sound. He groaned and let his head drop onto the steering wheel for a moment. He twisted the key again, praying that it would work. It didn't. He lifted his head and barred his teeth before struggling back out of the car, slamming the door shut. The lot was practically empty by now as he mad his way to the front of the Jeep and popped the hood open. A billow of steam poofed out and choked him. Gasping and coughing, he let the hood fall shut again. It was at times like these that he really wished he knew as much about engines as he did about the history of male castration. A car horn honked next to him and he flailed a second before whipping around to see Peter smirking at him from the driver's seat of a jet black Chevy Cruze.

"Need a lift?" Peter asked though the open window, still smirking. Stiles gave out a defeated sound. Then he glance back at his car and it dawned on him that this could have been a trap.

"Did you do this to my car?!" Stiles nearly shouted, taking a couple angry steps towards Peter.

"No! No, of course not…" He exclaimed dramatically, and Stiles narrowed his eyes. He didn't necessarily trust Peter but since he'd been resurrected, he'd been on his best behavior. Stiles wouldn't exactly put it past him to do this though. Peter practically read his mind. He held up one hand, the other over his heart. "Scout's Honor." The dorky little smile he shot Stiles actually managed to make him laugh. Stiles' sigh was mixed with a groan as he locked his Jeep up and went around the front of Peter's car to sit in the passenger's seat.

It was when they pulled into a fast food drive thru that Stiles realized he really should have seen this coming.

"You totally broke my car on purpose, didn't you." He sighed, letting his head drop into his hands. Peter laughed, the bastard. "It was a for a good cause?" He offered, shrugging like he could care less. When Stiles didn't respond Peter glanced over at him and saw his glare.

"What the hell is this "good cause", anyways?" Stiles ground out, turning to glare out the windshield at the car in front of them.

"Quality time together." Peter smiled.

* * *

The acne-ridden guy behind the counter handed Scott his popcorn and looked to Stiles for his order. Scott moved to the side with Allison. It was rare that they did this, went out, all three of them. It pissed Stiles off sometimes, how Scott ditched him, but he had nothing against Allison, even if she went kind of coo-coo for Cocoa Puffs last year.

Just as he opened his mouth to speak though, a voice sounded from directly behind him. "A large popcorn, please." Peter moved from behind him to beside him. Stiles saw Scott and Allison both tense up as he dramatically swung his head around to glare at the werewolf. Peter smiled at him. "A large will be fine for both of us, right? Do you want butter?" Peter took Stiles' deadpan expression as confirmation and told the cashier to practically drown the popcorn in it.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Stiles hissed when the cashier turned around to make their popcorn. Peter leaned against the counter, into Stiles' personal bubble. "I go to movies, too, you know. I figured I'd save you from being an eternal third-wheel. And I wanted to apologize for last week, that was a terrible first date." He whispered. Stiles scoffed and leaned away, glaring at him again. "You are such a pedophile. And that was _not _a date, creeper-wolf." Stiles grabbed the bucket of popcorn and hurried towards Allison and Scott, leaving Peter to pay and swagger towards them, smirk ever-so-present on his lips.

"What the hell, man?" Scott hissed at him. Stiles flailed for a second, "I don't know!" He hissed back. Allison just raised her eyebrows. Peter reached them and gestured towards the hallway that led to their theatre, "Shall we." Stiles groaned and bumped into Peter's shoulder as he passed him. "This is not a date." He mumbled, mostly to himself. "Course not." Peter smiled, using Stiles push to slide right into the motion of following him close behind. Scott and Allison shot each other looks of panic before Scott shrugged helplessly and they followed, too.

By the end of the first preview, Scott and Allison were holding hands and giving each other moon-eyes.

By the middle of the movie, Peter had managed to pull off the fake-yawn and lay his arm across Stiles' shoulders, earning himself an elbow to the ribs that he just silently laughed off. And yeah, maybe Peter had given him something to focus on other than the fact that he was such an obvious tag-a-long in this situation. That didn't mean anything, though. Peter was still super-creepy. And weird. And Stiles didn't like his new facial hair at all, not even the slightest bit. Nope. Nopety, nope. The man had tried to _kill _them all once. And then he'd died. And now he was alive again somehow and if that didn't show some serious motivation and stubbornness, Stiles didn't want to know what did.

When the movie ended, Stiles was grateful that Scott and Allison didn't run off immediately. They stuck with Stiles and Peter the whole way to the parking lot. But then they had to split up because Stiles had driven himself and had parked all the way across the lot, in the corner. In the dark. He was really stupid sometimes. Scott did pull him close for a second to tell him to call him once he got home, to which Stiles promised. Then Allison and Scott were off. Stiles sent Allison a small, reassuring smile when she glanced at him over her shoulder with worry written clearly on her face. Stiles started for his car and Peter followed closely. About halfway there, Stiles whipped around.

"What are you doing? Night's over. Go home. Stop stalking me." He said quickly, avoiding looking into Peter's eyes. The older man shrugged like the answer should be obvious. "I'm walking you to your car. I heard that it's the gentlemanly thing to do after a date."

"Wasn't a date." Stiles grumbled, turning back around and starting for his car again. "Whatever helps you sleep at night." He heard Peter sing-song behind him. He rolled his eyes and kept walking.

Just as he reached his Jeep Peter rushed him and spun him around, pressing his back into the door of his Jeep with his body. Stiles gasped and struggled for a moment before relaxing, remembering how hopeless struggling against a werewolf was. Peter smirked and leaned close, staring right into Stiles' eyes. He dipped his head down and sniffed hungrily along Stiles' throat. Stiles grunted and whined out, "Oh, that is so _weird_!" Peter huffed out a laugh against his neck and leaned back, "Shut up, Stiles." And Stiles didn't exactly have a choice because all of a sudden Peter was kissing him and there was a _tongue_ in his mouth and holy hell this was a whole different kind of kissing than the awkward fumbling of the few teenage girls he'd kissed. Peter's mouth was hard and hungry and devouring his own lips. And Stiles gasped into Peter's mouth, then Peter was kissing along his jaw and under his ear and Stiles was _melting _against his own will.

And then Peter was gone and walking away from him, towards his own car and Stiles was left a panting mess against the side of his Jeep.

* * *

Stiles groaned and slouched his way upstairs to his room. Practice had been brutal. Freaking Greenberg mouthing off had made Finstock make them run suicides the entire practice. He knew why they called them suicide runs now. His legs felt like absolute jelly and all he wanted to do was put on sweatpants and sleep for a few hundred years. But, of course, when he walked into his room, Peter was there, standing beside the open window like he'd crawled though only seconds ago. Stiles didn't even say anything, he just dropped his bag on the floor and collapsed onto his bed.

"I watched your practice today." Peter said quietly. Stiles laughed into his pillow before rolling onto his back. "That's not creepy at all." Peter shook his head and came towards him. Stiles didn't even attempt to protest as Peter quietly shut and locked his bedroom door. He was just too tired to complain about anything that the Creeper-Wolf did at the moment. Then he felt Peter sit at the end of his bed and his eyes snapped open. He squinted suspiciously as Peter started pulling Stiles' sneakers off, then let out a loud groan when Peter started _rubbing his feet. _Jesus, it felt like heaven after so much running. Peter hit a particular spot on the bottom of his foot that had Stiles moaning involuntarily, "I love you so much right now." Peter looked up at him with a smile. An actually smile, not a smirk, or some toothy mockery of a smile.

"Really now?" Peter asked, raising a brow. Stiles just laughter in little huffs, "Shut up." And it was fondness in his voice. Peter just chuckled and clasped a warm hand at his ankle. "Oh my god." Stiles whispered, staring straight up at his ceiling. Peter's hands stilled.

"What is it?" He asked, not a single mocking tone in his voice. Stiles smiled like he'd completely given up denying it. "We're totally dating." And he pulled his pillow over his face to block out the sound of Peter's laughter.

* * *

**FIN. Hope ya liked it, COMMENT PLEASE. Thanks, love ya. **


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